“Should we see if your ‘friend’ wants any?” she asked, jerking her head towards the window where Leo was visible on the other side.
“How’d ya know he’s with me?”
Natalie smiled and shook her head. “Dom, he was at Grant’s wedding. Let me guess, he’s protection?” she whispered this part so the cashier didn’t overhear.
“Yeah, he’s my cousin. Hold on.” I hollered out the open door for Leo and he was inside within seconds, an arm behind his back indicating he was reaching for his gun.
“Natalie wants to know if you want any gelato.”
“Sure, that’d be fucking great,” he said, his stance immediately relaxing like a cat as it watches its prey fly away.
We walked out together with our bowls in hand, but Leo fell back again to keep an eye on things. As we approached the walkway for a footbridge that arched over Columbus Boulevard, connecting to Penn’s Landing, my cell phone vibrated. Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled it out, scowling when I read the text.
“What’s wrong?” Nat asked. “That’s not about Grant, is it?”
“No,” I grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I forgot I promised to do something tonight and Dante just reminded me.”
“Do you need to go? I can take a cab back to the hotel.” She actually sounded and looked disappointed, unconsciously sticking out her bottom lip into a pout. I didn’t want our night together to be cut so short either.
“You can come with me, but it’s definitely not your scene.”
We sat down on a stone bench in the shape of a half circle. These benched line the foot bridge. Lights built into the brick illuminated the way to Penn’s Landing. People meandered by, taking in the skyline while traffic rushed by below, a stream of red taillights.
“Where do you have to go?” she asked.
I sighed and leaned back against the cool stone, stretching my legs out. “One of my business associates, Egan, is hosting a boxing tournament tonight in the Northeast. As a sign of support, I told him I’d attend. He and I don’t exactly get along, so this gesture will help keep things stable with our business agreement.”
“Egan? I met him at the wedding, right?”
“Yeah. He’s the guy you were dancing with before I took over.”
“You’re a better dancer,” she teased, nudging my leg with hers. “Seriously though, I’ll go. I’ve never watched a boxing match before.”
“This is a little different than the usual,” I said, standing up and placing my hand out for Natalie’s, pulling her to her feet.
“How so? It’s just two guys punching each other with big, poufy gloves.”
I chuckled at her description. “This is bare knuckled, an old school Irish tradition.”
“Bare knuckle?” Natalie stopped and looked up at me, her hazel eyes wide with horror. “Gloves are off?” I nodded and she shook her head. “That’s crazy!”
“That’s Egan. I think he’s been punched in the head one too many times. Change your mind?”
“No, I’ll go. Now I’m curious.”
Leaving Natalie on the corner near Downey’s Pub, I pulled Leo off to the side and explained the change of plans. Handing him my baseball cap and key fob, I told him to take my car back to my condo. With his dark hair and similar build, Leo could pass as me at a glance and served as a good decoy. I went back to get Natalie and we continued walking back to where we parked. When Leo hopped in the car and drove off, she turned to face me.
“Relax, we’re going to borrow Grant’s car.” Miranda and Grant’s row home was right around the corner and Miranda opened the door only after verifying who was standing on the other side. She was wearing baggy pajama bottoms and an Eagles teeshirt. She came armed with a half-eaten Oreo. Evidence of the cookie resided in a dark spot in the corner of her lips.
I took a step back with my arms raised in surrender. “We come in peace,” I said and Natalie laughed. Miranda popped the rest of the Oreo in her mouth and flipped me off before turning around and walking inside. We followed her in and I locked the door behind us.
“I just talked to Grant and he’s doing better. His sleep schedule is so off though,” Miranda said and sat down on the sofa, reaching for another Oreo out of the tray that was on the coffee table in front of her.
“At least he’s improving,” Natalie said.
“True. He’ll sleep so much better once he’s home. So what’s up with you two?”
I explained about Egan’s and told her we needed to use Grant’s car. She readily agreed and told me where to find his keys. We left Miranda alone with her Oreo binge and were soon heading towards Natalie’s hotel so she could get changed. I didn’t bother with valet and dropped Natalie off, deciding to circle the block and check for any type of surveillance. I didn’t notice anything unusual and twenty minutes later I slammed on the brakes, stunned at the vision waiting just outside the revolving doors. Natalie had changed into a simple black tank dress, but it hugged every curve just right. Red stilettos made her legs look endless and her calf muscles extra defined. I had explained to her that Egan ran his “events” as though they were of a Vegas standard. People high up in the city’s food chain attended and in the winter more fur coats were seen than at a zoo.
As she got closer I saw she wore the diamond necklace I’d given her for her graduation and the diamond tennis bracelet that was a Valentine’s Day present. Seeing these items on her, knowing I gave them to her, filled me with a sense of pride and also hope that she cared enough to still wear them. Before the doorman could do his job, I was out of the car and holding the passenger door open for Natalie. She slid onto the leather seat and smiled up at me. After making sure her legs were tucked safely inside, I shut the door.
Grant’s Audi purred as we cruised up Broad Street. We hit very few red lights and traffic wasn’t too bad so we reached Egan’s venue in less than forty-five minutes. He had purchased an old school that had a gym and he’s refurbished it into a boxing arena. It had ample parking and he completely gutted the interior; knocking down walls between classrooms and administrative offices.
Tonight Egan had gone all out by hiring a valet company. Four cars were ahead of us, all luxury models. I even spotted a limousine tucked in the back lot. Once I handed the keys off to a valet driver, I took Natalie’s hand and we walked up the wide concrete steps. The front doors automatically opened and we entered a climate controlled environment. The lobby area was full of people. To the left, what used to be a hallway with classrooms, was an entertainment area with flat screen T.V.’s and a full bar that looked more like a pub with dark wood paneling, tables and tin ceilings. A betting lounge for those placing money on the fights was part of this. The entrance to the gym was to the right as well as the bathrooms, which had been fully swankified and modernized. Fluorescent lights had been replaced with track lighting. Every other bulb was red, bathing the halls and rooms in crimson hues. It still looked like a school on the outside, but definitely not on the inside.
As we made our way through the crowd, Dante flagged us down. He had a blonde in a tight red dress clinging to his arm. I hadn’t seen her before, but she fit his type.
“Dom, Nat, glad you guys made it. We have a booth over there with Jin.”
He didn’t even bother introducing his date, but she didn’t seem bothered by it.
“Hi, I’m Natalie,” Nat extended her hand and introduced herself to the woman.
“Oh hi, I’m Gabriella,” she said.
“How long have you and Dante known each other?” Natalie asked as we walked to the table.
“Two days,” she answered with a giggle. “We met at Starbucks and he asked me out. I don’t even know where we are, but this place is so cool. Oh my gawd, is that Bruce Willis?” She said in a thick Jersey accent and Gabrielle looked off, seemingly distracted by a shiny bald head moving through the crowd.
Natalie rolled her eyes and covered her mouth to disguise a smirk. I winked at her and said, “She’s distract
ed by shiny objects, huh?”
“Like a raccoon.”
I laughed and shook my head. I’d slept with plenty of women like Gabriella; women who didn’t have much in the brains department, but that didn’t matter because all I cared about was getting off. Natalie changed all of that and I had no desire to go back to meaningless sex. One day Dante was going to find someone he had an emotional connection with and his world would be rocked.
Jin and I shook hands across the table and I introduced Natalie. Jin’s brother and a soldier were sitting on either side of him. Dante squeezed in next to Natalie with Gabriella on the end. A waitress came around to take our drink orders.
“Cash only,” she said right up front.
“Yeah, we know the drill,” Dante responded. “I’ll take a Jack and Coke.” We all placed our orders and conversation resumed once the waitress left.
Jin asked me how Grant was doing and Natalie gave him an update. “So no issues with business? I hear you’re feeling the heat,” Jin said.
“I got that covered. We’re good.”
Just then Gabriella squealed and I turned to find her looking at me. She was jumping up and down in her seat with excitement. “You’re that guy! Oh my gawd, you’re so much hotter in person!”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“You’re the guy who shot the mall shooter, right? They were talking about you on TMZ and how it was a good thing you were released because you’re way too pretty for prison.”
“TMZ?”
“It’s a celebrity news site and channel. You’ve made national news, man. I told you people want to know about you,” Dante said. “I’m handling it, but you’re going to have to do at least two interviews.”
“Fuck.” I ran a hand through my hair and huffed.
“The fact that you’re playing hard to get is keeping them intrigued. Gotta throw ‘em a bone.”
“It won’t be so bad, Dom and Dante is right, the media is salivating after you. You’re like this dark hero. You’re like Batman,” Natalie said and laughed.
Next thing I knew, Gabriella was leaning over with her phone snapping pictures, the flash blinding me.
“What the fuck?” I yelled, throwing my arms up to shield my face.
“These are great! You two look so cute!” Gabriella squealed. “My girlfriends are going to be disappointed knowing you’re not single, but damn you’re smoking hot!” Her fingers were flying over the keyboard when Natalie reached over and plucked the phone out of Gabriella’s hands.
It happened so fast that the phone was submerged in Natalie’s glass of water before I could recover from the flashes.
“You bitch! What the hell are you on witness protection or something?” Gabriella screeched and I felt Natalie tense up.
Jin and his cohorts watched the drama unfold with amused expressions on their faces. “Dante, get her the fuck out of here,” I ordered.
“On it.” Dante slid over, nudging Gabriella out of the booth. He grabbed her elbow and escorted her away as more than a few people turned to take in the spectacle. I fished the phone out of Natalie’s glass and wrapped it in a cloth napkin, leaving it on the table.
“Wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?” I asked.
Natalie shrugged and played with her straw, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. Her hair hung down like a curtain, shielding her face so I brushed it back over her shoulder. “Nat?”
She glanced sideways at me and sighed. “I don’t like them speculating about you and for Gabriella to take pictures like that, well that was fucking rude.”
“Speculating? You mean the media?”
“Yeah.”
“It isn’t ideal and I don’t like it either.” It was bad enough having the FBI up my ass. Throw the media into the mix and I had all sorts of people digging for information about me and the Grabano name. “Don’t worry. It will blow over soon.”
“Will it?”
I intended for it all to go away after I had my talk with Agent Phillips.
Chapter 23
Natalie
We had just settled into our seats in the front row when Dante returned sans Gabriella.
“Where’s your date?” I asked to which Dante glared in response.
“Well, she’s definitely not here and she won’t be beneath me tonight,” he said then grinned. “But the night’s still young. I’ll find someone else to take her place.”
“You’re such a pig,” I said with a laugh and smacked him on his shoulder.
Dante started talking to Jin when more of Dom’s associates joined us. I recognized them from the wedding. They all sat in the same row as us and wore green wristbands like us. I glanced around as the stands filled up noticing varying colors of wristbands. While the area around the boxing ring consisted of theater style seating, Egan had kept the old school, wooden bleachers that could be folded in accordion-style. While some men wore suits and others were dressed more casually, all of the women were decked out like it was some sort of pageant. Perfectly styled hair, make up and jewelry worth more than the Crown Jewels were on display. I’m glad Dom offered me the chance to change as I felt underdressed in my simple black dress. My shoes however, rocked, even though the balls of my feet had already begun to ache. I was glad Chelsea had the foresight to pack the red stilettos.
“What are the wristbands for?” I asked Dom.
“Indicates what level we paid for our seats. Green is a grand, blue is $500 and red is $100, which is the minimum.”
I stared at him with my mouth open. “Are you serious?”
“Oh yeah. There is some good money in bare knuckle boxing. Tonight’s winners will be walking away with close to forty grand each. Typically these fights are held in a warehouse and take place in a square taped off on the concrete floor. This is BKB on steroids. Egan likes to go big or go home.”
Just then the gym plunged into darkness and the background noise of a thousand conversations hushed. I leaned toward Dom, not sure if the dark was intentional. Suddenly a spotlight flared to life, illuminating one of the entrances. A bass line started thrumming through the sound system, so deep I felt the vibration through my seat. The beat remained constant, almost like a heartbeat and then an announcer was introducing the first boxer. He burst through the doors with his fists in the air and his oiled chest glistened in the light. The bass beat morphed into “Til I Collapse” by Eminem and the crowd roared while some booed as the man was followed by a small entourage. Once he was situated in the corner of the ring, the music faded out and resumed the steady beat. The spotlight shifted to another entrance at the opposite end of the room. We all shifted in our seats to watch. The announcer screamed his introduction and as soon as the boxer, Killian, was announced, the crowd freaked out. It didn’t take a sports expert to figure out this guy was a fan favorite. The doors opened, but the doorway remained empty until the first chords of “The Warrior’s Code” by the Dropkick Murphy’s began to play. Not an adrenaline pumping song, but it appealed to the predominantly Irish crowd.
“That’s Egan’s younger brother,” Dom leaned in and whispered in my ear. “He’s a local BKB featherweight champion.”
Soon both boxers were facing off, their fists clenching and unclenching as they circled each other in the ring. Both were solid muscle, not an ounce of fat appeared on their tattooed bodies. Killian wore green shorts while the other fighter, James something or other, wore gold. While I was watching their movements intently, the first punch that made contact surprised me. Killian hit hard and James’ head snapped back with the force, but he recovered quickly and struck back. It wasn’t until blood started to flow that I quickly lost interest. Cheekbones swelled and split knuckles left bloody imprints wherever they landed. I found myself gripping Dom’s hand tight. With my eyes closed and face pressed into his arm, I couldn’t escape the wet smacks and grunting. Finally the crowd erupted and I looked up to see James flat on his back on the mat and a victorious Killian marching around the
ring, his face a mask of bruises and blood. He grinned and I saw blood tinged teeth. A doctor or someone entered the ring to check on James who was coming around. They helped him up and he left with less fanfare than he entered. His ego probably sustained just as much bruising. Killian left among the cheers and he was handed a shot of something which he downed quickly, throwing the empty shot glass into the audience.
The lights remained on while a guy came in and quickly mopped up the mat, and then the gym was plunged into darkness for the next round.
“Are you okay?” Dom asked when I reached for his hand again.
“It’s very intense.”
“Yeah, I think they’re all a little nuts to go bare knuckle. This is the middleweight round and then we’ll have heavyweight and that’s Egan’s division.”
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath to prepare myself for more testosterone fueled pummeling.
The introductions were like the last time, with the Irish competitor receiving more cheers. This match ended after two punches. Mike the Mick, not only knocked out his opponent, but a few teeth. One landed by my feet, a bloody incisor and my stomach rolled. Dom kicked it out of sight when he saw what made me cringe. I started to stand so I could leave when the lights went dark again. Who knew this shit would be so dramatic?
The bass resumed, but this time it was like thunder or a jet engine shaking the entire gym. People stomped their feet and started chanting “Irish! Irish! Irish!” over and over. Suddenly a bright green light flared and lit up one of the entrances. Egan emerged with more swagger than an entire NFL team. He raised his arms in the air, proudly showing off his already scabbed up knuckles. He didn’t have any intro music, but he didn’t need it with the bass and chanting. His skin already shone with oil and sweat. His body was covered with tattoos, a giant Celtic cross on his back the biggest piece of ink. The only time I met Egan was at Grant’s wedding and he was in a suit, I had no idea the lethal physique he hid underneath his clothes. His brown hair was shorter than I remember, revealing a thick neck. He paced the ring like a wild animal, his muscles rippling with each movement. He spotted us in the front row and dipped his head in acknowledgement to Dom before his blue eyes zeroed in on me. He winked once then was off again in his zone while his opponent made his entrance.
Endings & Beginnings: Book Three of The New Mafia Trilogy Page 17
